Things that never happened on Angel
by LisaJ
Summary: A drabble series of things that never happened on Angel. Some humor, some drama, some horror.
1. On the right path

Harmony knocked on Angel's office door nervously. The last few days at Wolfram and Hart hadn't been very pleasant. Angel was still grouchy over the whole Cordelia thing and Blondie Bear was in a bad mood as well.

"Come on in," Angel said. She entered the room.

"I always knew Spike was an idiot, but this really takes the cake," Angel groused to Harmony.

"Why boss?" she said, handing him his morning's mug of pig's blood.

"Lindsey told Spike a bunch of crap about working for the higher powers, getting visions from them, and passing them onto him because he was supposed to be a 'champion'," Angel said. "And Mr. Brain Trust fell for that hook, line and sinker. It didn't occur to him to try to get some proof before setting himself up in the hero business. What a maroon!"

"Didn't the same thing happen to you?" Harmony said innocently.

"Whadaya mean?" Angel snapped.

"Geez boss, you don't have to bite my head off," Harmony said indignantly. "I just meant that some scruffy drifter told you the same story, and you believed him, didn't you."

Angel scowled. "Of course I believed him."

"How do you know your Doyle was telling the truth? He could've been yanking your chain." Harmony giggled. "For all you know, he could have been working for the Senior Partners."

Angel thought for a moment. Nah, the whole idea was ridiculous. Doyle had been the one to set him on his path. The path which had led him to . . . here . . . right where the Senior Partners had wanted him all along.

Angel's jaw dropped. "Oh."

Harmony giggled.

The End. 


	2. Destiny Calls

After restoring everyone's destiny, the Fang Gang stood outside the casino, the neon lights of Las Vegas casting a sickly pall over their faces.

"Well, that was fun. Time to get back to LA," Gunn said.

"Back with you to LA?" Angel said. "Guys, I'm not going to LA, I've got a plane to catch."

"Whoa, hold on a minute, my little buckaroo," Lorne said. "What's this about a plane?"

"Duh, Lorne, I have to make my flight to Paris tonight," said an exasperated Angel.

The Fang Gang stared at him blankly. 

"What's in Paris?" Fred said.

Angel sighed and rolled his eyes. "Cooking school. What else?"

Wesley decided to step in. "Angel, why in the name of all that is holy, would you, of all people, make plans to attend cooking school in France?"

"Why not?" Angel said.

"Angel, you don't cook. You don't even eat," Gunn said.

"So what. I'm going to Paris anyway. It's my destiny," Angel said stubbornly.

"Destiny?" Fred said. 

"What do you mean by destiny?" Wesley said. "Your destiny is to fight evil, not prepare canapés."

Angel shook his head impatiently. "Nah. I'm through with all that champion stuff. Providing high quality meals is my destiny now."

"Sweet Elvis in heaven!" Lorne cried. "I know what's happened. Angelcakes got his destiny mixed up with someone else's."

"Oh my god," Fred exclaimed.

At that moment, a pretty brunette in a blue dress ran up to Angel's stunned companions. "There you are," she said. "I've been looking all over the casino for you guys."

Again, the Fang Gang stared blankly. 

"Who're you?" Gunn asked.

The brunette stomped her feet. "It's me Vivian. Your champion, remember?" Turning to Angel, she pulled an envelope out of her purse and handed it to Angel. "Here's your airline ticket and letter of acceptance to the school. Bon appetite!"

"Thanks," Angel said, pocketing the envelope. "It's been real, but I've got to run. Vivian, good luck with the champion thing." Before anyone could stop him, he'd hailed a cab and disappeared into the night.

Vivian smiled at them. "Let's get going. There's demons to fight and I'm just the girl to do it."

Wesley fainted. 


	3. Happy Birthday

Cordelia leaned in to kiss Angel, then stopped. She glanced around the room, taking in the shabby apartment, Wes's empty sleeve and the general air of hopelessness and desperation.

"What the hell am I doing?" she said. "I'm an international superstar. I belong with the rich and famous, not here in this dump."

Wes was taken aback. "Cordelia?" he said.

"Forget it buddy, I'm outta here," Cordy said. "I'd be a real idiot to give up fame and fortune to play ghost-busters with you losers."

Cordy then got up and rapidly made her way to the door, pausing only to toss off an insincere "It's been great seeing you guys again, call my people, we'll do lunch."


	4. Lulleby

Darla drove off in the Angelmobile, not stopping until she was far from Los Angeles. Needing protection from the sun, she knocked on the door of an isolated house; the homeowner, feeling pity for the distraught pregnant woman, let her in. The good Samaritan barely had time to regret his kindness before Darla sank her fangs into his throat.

Darla felt the pangs of labor begin again, this time growing stronger. Finally the baby was born. Darla was pleased. He was a fine, fat, infant, a son to be proud of - if you were a human. Weak from her ordeal, Darla realized she needed sustenance. She smiled at the baby. "Daddy's not here and Mommy's hungry," she said. The baby, as if sensing her thoughts, began to wail. 


	5. Lightbulb

Lindsey followed Lorne to the nest of demons. He stumbled over an unseen obstacle; Lorne grabbed him, holding him upright for a moment. Something in Lorne's coat pocket, something hard, bumped into Lindsey's leg. 

That felt almost like a gun, Lindsey thought. Nah, why would Lorne bring a gun to a knife fight. These guys can't be killed by firearms, and no mugger is gonna take on a six feet two green-skinned, red-horned demon. I must have imagined it. 

Still puzzled, Lindsey glanced surreptitiously at Lorne's coat. That is definitely a gun. Why though? Wait a minute, he's gonna shoot me! Lindsey thought. That son of a bitch is planning to kill me! Angel must have put him up to it," Lindsey thought, outraged. He talked me into joining his team when all the while he planned to have me do his dirty work then kill me! And he's supposed to be the good guy! Some hero! 

They reached their destination. Lindsey smiled at Lorne. Facing the door, he pulled his sword out of its scabbard, wheeled around and drove the blade deeply into Lorne's ass. 


	6. Just Desserts For Imzadi

Three months after Angel Shanshued:

Angel walked down the street with a smile in his heart and a spring in his step. Ever since The Powers That Be had rewarded him by making him human once more his life had gotten better and better. Angel wasn't sure which he appreciated most: the feel of sunshine on his skin, or the taste of gourmet food and fine wine. Either way, he fully enjoyed his newfound humanity.

A police car pulled up along side him; two officers jumped out, grabbed Angel, handcuffed him and began to read him his rights. 

"What going on?" Angel asked.

"You're under arrest as an accessory to first degree murder in the death of Holland Manners, his wife, and fourteen guests," one officer said.

"What?" Angel gasped.

"Drop the innocent act, pal. The security camera caught you on tape and your fingerprints were on the wine cellar door. It's been a long time coming but you're going down for this," the officer said. "And we've got some questions for you about the McDonald shooting too."

Angel nearly collapsed. "You know about that?" he said.

"We picked up your demon friend a block from the bar. Dumb bastard didn't even wipe his prints from the gun," the officer said. "I guess he learned his criminal mastermind techniques from you." 

"You can't prove anything," Angel said while thinking 'Lorne would never sell me out.'

"It seems loyalty isn't his strong suit. The minute the DA reminded him that California is a death penalty state, he rolled over on you to get his sentence reduced," the officer said, sneering at Angel.

"Yeah, he sang like a bird," the other officer said. "It just goes to show you, some things shouldn't be outsourced." Both policemen laughed. 

"What's going to happen to me?" Angel squeaked out.

"Lets see, you're an accessory to sixteen brutal murders, and you had another man killed in cold-blood, so you're looking at some serious time. But don't worry," the officer said. "With good behavior, you'll be out of jail in about, oh, ninety years or so." 

This time, Angel did collapse.

The End. 


	7. If Looks Could Kill

Angel woke up one morning, showered, carefully gelled his hair to perfection, put on his nattiest duds, and went to his usual briefing at Wolfram and Hart. As he walked through the halls, he couldn't help but noticing the strange reactions of his employees. Some stared, some snickered; others gasped as if horrified. Self-conscious, Angel adjusted his cool leather coat and ran his hands through his hair. Satisfied, he continued on his way.

He entered the conference room, unprepared for the reactions of his closest friends. 

Wesley, appalled to the core, grabbed a stake and said, "Dear god!" 

Gunn said, "Yo man, what happened to you? You looked like you got whacked with the ugly stick." Spike burst out laughing, spewing beer out of his nose and onto Lorne's new jacket, while Fred began babbling nonsensically.

Annoyed, Angel snapped, "What's wrong with you guys? Something wrong with the way I look?"

His friends exchanged glances; no one spoke. Angel glowered at them before sitting down. 

At that moment, Harmony showed up with Angel's morning mug of blood. "Oh my god!" she yelled, dropping the cup which shattered, splashing the viscous fluid onto Lorne's jacket. "Boss, you look like a bat!" 

Angel felt his face. His nose did feel different. Well, that explained everyone's reactions. Angel sighed. He always knew that if he (un)lived long enough, he'd, as Darla put it, 'outgrow the curse of human features'. Great, he thought, just great, now I look like the Master. So much for the whole 'brooding, mysterious, handsome man thing I've been milking for the last century. I might as well give up and retreat to an underground lair and live off rats. Catching Spike's eye, he thought, don't be so smug, Mr. Perfect Cheekbones, this'll happen to you someday too.

Meanwhile, Harmony, in an attempt to console him, said, "Don't worry, boss. A guy as rich as you can get away with being ugly."

"She's right, Angelcakes, or should I say, Batman. Hey, maybe this will start a trend. You know, facial deformity as the new black," Lorne said insincerely. 

Spike continued to giggle.

The End. 


	8. Fatherhood

Hyperion Lobby:

Angel's shriveled, little, walnut of a heart swelled with pride as his son Connor stepped through the interdimensional portal. He's a chip off the old block, even the Quartoth dimension couldn't defeat him, Angel thought as he gazed at his son lovingly. 

His son was nearly a man now, tall, well not so tall, actually, Connor was rather short, with brown hair and blue eyes that certainly hadn't come from his side of the family, or come to think of it, Darla's. In fact, Connor didn't look like either of his parents, Angel thought, puzzled. If anything, the boy looked a lot like . . . Lindsey! 


	9. The Consultation Xover with NipTuck

Angel glanced around furtively before pushing open the door to the doctor's office. If word of this gets around, I'll be the laughingstock of the demon world, he thought, as he unsuccessfully attempted to hide his bulging abdomen. Damn coat, musta shrunk at the dry cleaner's, Angel rationalized.

He walked up to the reception desk and said, "Hi, I'm Angel. I have a three o'clock with Dr. McNamara."

The receptionist smiled and said pleasantly, "Please have a seat; the doctor will be with you soon." 

Angel complied. He tried to find something interesting to read, failed, and ended up with a five year old Reader's Digest. He was in the middle of 'Life In These United States' when the receptionist directed him to the consultation room.

Two men entered the room. Angel stared at the taller man, did a double take, and shouted: "Balthazar!" 

"What! No, I'm not, I mean I have no idea who you mean," Dr. Troy said rather unconvincingly.

Dr. McNamara shot his partner a suspicious look before getting down to business. "What don't you like about yourself?" Dr. McNamara asked.

"Isn't it obvious, Sean? He's here about that pot-belly," Dr. Troy said, shaking his head. "Uh oh, looks like someone's been guzzling the pig's blood."

"Christian!" Dr. McNamara said. "Mr. Angel, I'm sorry about my partner's attitude," Dr. McNamara said, giving Dr. Troy a dirty look.

Angel's vampire hearing picked up Dr. Troy muttering: "Someone's turned into a chunky monkey since he became Mr. Goody Two-Shoes."

Angel squirmed with embarrassment. If I didn't need you to liposuction my gut before my big date with Nina tomorrow, I'd eat you, your partner and your receptionist too, Balthazar, he thought. 


	10. The Client

Holland Manners repressed a shudder as he stared in horrified fascination at the creature before him. He had seen many demonic life forms in his tenure at Wolfram and Hart, but nothing had prepared him for this. Its skin was unnaturally pale, its features were a grotesque parody of a human face, its voice sent shivers of revulsion down Holland's spine; and he didn't like the way the vile being was looking at Lindsey.

He had heard of this creature, everyone had. Holland had watched as its evil and power grew, marveling at the sway this foul beast held over its followers, astounded at the way it got away with the most outrageous behavior. Now, it had come to him, expecting to be rescued from an ugly situation that was entirely of its own making.

No, some lines simply couldn't be crossed, even the Senior Partners had their limits. For the first time in Wolfram and Hart's long history, a potential client was going to be rejected on the grounds that it was far too evil for Satan's own law firm. 

Taking a deep breath, Holland said: "I'm sorry, Mr. Jackson. We will not represent you." The End. 


	11. Fatherhood II

Connor's heart nearly burst with pride as he introduced his daughter to Wesley, Fred and Gunn.

Everything about her was beautiful; her gorgeous mane of hair, her lovely face, her lissome body and, last but not least, her exquisite mocha complexion.

Connor reluctantly tore his gaze away from the miraculous creature who had sprung from his loins. Wesley had never seemed so happy, Connor thought, Fred was babbling incoherently, while Gunn seemed to radiate bliss from every pore of his mocha complexion.

Connor frowned. Something wasn't quite right. Sure she was comely, but shouldn't a girl resemble her parents? Or, if not a close resemblance, shouldn't she look like she came from the same ethnic group as the rest of her family? She didn't look like any of Connor's relatives, not him, not Cordelia, not Angel or Darla. In fact, the person she looked like was . . .

Connor yelled "Gunn! I'm gonna kick your . . ." 


	12. Two Birds

Angel brooded. As much as he loved his son, he was forced to admit that he was not able to care for the child properly. It wasn't just that every demonic cult, Wolfram and Hart minion and the newly resurrected Daniel Holtz was after the baby, it was also the simple fact that he was a vampire. There was no way he could possibly provide a normal, stable home for a child. Connor deserved so much more than he could give.

Then, there was the other matter. Much as he liked Fred, Angel wasn't oblivious to the negative effect she was having on his team. Ever since she had arrived, Gunn and Wesley had been at loggerheads. If this rivalry wasn't nipped in the bud, the jealousy and hostility would destroy their friendship and tear apart his little family. Angel couldn't let that happen, not now, not when Wolfram and Hart were scheming against them, not when Cordelia was suffering from a mysterious disease, not when he needed both men by his side.

Angel sighed unhappily. This was the hardest thing he'd ever done in his unnaturally long life, but he would do it. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. The mindwipe spell he'd paid a fortune for would serve to erase any trace of Connor from both his friend's and his enemy's memories; the phony birth certificate would provide a new identity for the infant.

First thing tomorrow, he'd send Fred back home to her family and she would take Connor with her. 


	13. Rising

Drusilla smiled down at Lindsey's corpse. It was a good thing she had had a vision of Lindsey's death and had arrived in time to save him. Soon Lindsey would rise again and together they would find Daddy. 

Drusilla was very angry at Daddy. He had been a very, very, bad Daddy, setting her and Grandmum on fire. Then he had gotten Grandmum preggers, contaminating her with a filthy soul, which had led to Grandmum ending up as a pile of dust in an alley - and he didn't even eat the baby afterwards! 

Lindsey was probably angry with Daddy about Grandmum's sad fate too, Drusilla thought. She was sure that Lindsey would have some beautifully naughty ideas about how to punish Daddy when they found him. She couldn't wait. 


	14. A Dish Best Eaten Cold

Rome - 2005

Lindsey burst into the apartment. He had waited nearly a year for this moment, first struggling to overcome his near-lethal injuries, then spending months tracking down his nemesis. Finally, after a fortuitous meeting with Drusilla, he had located his quarry in Rome. 

The apartment's occupants, two young women, one blond, one brunette, stared at him in amazement. 

"I'm not going to hurt either of you. I'm here for Angel," Lindsey said, pulling a revolver out of his coat pocket. He was rather surprised to see an infant sitting in a high-chair. Drusilla hadn't told him that the Slayer had a child.

"Why are you here?" the older woman demanded, surprisingly calm for someone facing a gun-wielding stranger.

"I'm here for revenge," Lindsey said, waving the gun at the women. "Your precious hero had me shot down like a dog and left for dead. Now he's gonna get his."

Smirking slightly, the blonde woman said, "What makes you think Angel is here?"

"Don't lie to me! I know he's here. Drusilla told me all about it. All right, she didn't make too much sense, but she was clear that her Daddy had been reborn as a human and was living with the Slayer," Lindsey said angrily. "Tell him to come out and take it like a man."

The brown-haired girl snickered. The baby gurgled happily.

Confused by her reaction, Lindsey looked around the room, trying to find out what the girl thought was so funny. He took a good look at the baby, taking in his shock of black hair, deep-set brown eyes and Neanderthal brow. Comprehension dawned. "Son of a bitch!" he yelled.

The End. 


	15. Bad Moon Rising

The restaurant owner was pleased. Tonight he would serve a very special (and lucrative) dish to a select clientele. Unfortunately, this dish, due to its unique and extremely perishable nature, had to be served raw. He checked his watch; the moon would be full in a few minutes. 

It was time. He nodded to the waiters. At his signal, they wheeled the table out to the waiting customers, ignoring the entrée's desperate struggle to escape.

Meanwhile, back in Sunnydale, Xander said to Willow, "Hey, Wil, have you heard from Oz lately?" 


	16. Misread

Wesley pored over the precious Shanshu scroll with increasing dismay. When he first translated the prophecy several years earlier, he'd assumed that the prophesized re-humanization of Angel would take place far in the future. However, after utilizing Wolfram and Hart's vast resources, he realized that he had not seen the entire scroll. There was another key paragraph which he had not previously known about. 

Wesley puzzled over the seemingly nonsensical words: "The Shanshu will occur after the vampire with a soul will be doused in the blood of a Mohra demon. Then all sins will be forgiven. This will be the souled vampire's one chance at true humanity."

Wesley, his brow furrowed with concern trotted to Angel's office. "Angel," he said, "I have something to tell you about the Shanshu prophecy. "He quickly explained the expanded prophecy to an increasingly alarmed Angel.

Wesley hadn't quite known how Angel would respond to this new information, but he certainly didn't expect Angel to smack his giant, Neanderthal brow and yell "Son of a bitch!"


End file.
